What Goes Around
by Golden Snowflake
Summary: But he was betrayed, the Storm Hawks defeated, and all hope lost. Until now. Every story has a beginning. And this is theirs.
1. Ace

**- Chapter One -**

xXxXx

It was one of the hottest days anyone had ever seen. Trade was halted and all travel was postponed. Weathered, groaning rocking chairs were dragged outside and children retreated to the futile shade of tall elms and oaks. The haze hung in the sky for miles and miles, and all the shops closed.

He was too young to remember yet as his mother rocked him gently on her hip, singing and swaying across the kitchen in front of the fan. He giggled with delight as her gleaming green eyes shone out against her pale face and the loose threads of blonde swayed against her cheekbones. He wouldn't remember that he grabbed her arm with his little hand and began to chew on the heel of her palm. Teething did little to dampen his moods, but it had resulted in an array of bruises on the petite woman's arms that would refuse to fade for weeks.

Her voice faltered as her eyes broke from his, wandering to the figure that thudded conspicuously over the linoleum.

His smile faded as she heaved him over to the door, the lilting ring leaving her voice as she began to speak. Something timid and gentle that was combatted by the booming voice of the bigger creature who was already halfway across the threshold.

A spark of discomfort that pierced the fogginess of the heat.

His eyes left the huge form as it turned and strode out the door, his interest suddenly waning in that loud man whose moods swayed from boisterous joy to condescension as quickly as the wind could toss low clouds across the sky. He reached about, wanting his mother's hand again. His jaw was sore and he needed something to gnaw on.

They said that it was a damn good idea. Nobody would have believed that a strike had been planned just so it would coincide with the excruciating beating of the sun and the insurmountable thickness of the humidity. And it was unanimously agreed upon that it was the very best of luck that the Hawks were a stubborn band who refused to be outdone, even by Mother Nature herself.

Otherwise, as grandpas would whisper for years afterward, the eyes of the little ones wide as they clustered around and held their breaths, nobody would have been there to stop the greatest organized attack against the free Atmos in all of recorded history.

xXxXx

"You're growing up, aren't you?"

"Na dah," he replied simply, waving a hand before the man's face. He laughed, grabbing the child's small fingers gently. Aerrow's tiny digits squirmed of their own accord before finally wrapping around his index finger and holding onto it.

"Na dah, huh?"

"Na _dah_," the little child corrected. Ace laughed again.

"Oh, I see. My mistake." The little boy put his thumb in his mouth and smiled.

"Aerrow!"

The child and Ace looked up. Across the room, Aaron waved at his son. Aerrow squirmed in Ace's grasp, and the man bounced the little boy. "You want down, little man?"

Aerrow responded in a jumble of syllables that seemed to make perfect sense to him. The man smiled in awe, blue eyes flicking between both of the child's.

"Aerrow," called the sky knight again. Ace looked up, and Aaron met his eyes for a brief moment, a flash of disgust flashing across his face. The blue-eyed man leaned over and deposited the toddler on the ground. The little head of red hair bobbed over to the burly man and his cohorts. Aaron said something and hoisted his son off the ground roughly, and the group laughed loudly. Ace's mouth pulled back in an almost imperceptible sneer before he turned and strode out of the room and down the hall.

A small black silhouette cut a chunk of the sunset away at the open door. Hesitating, he stood still in deliberation. Making his decision, he took a step toward it.

"Hi there," he said softly, smiling a little as he stepped outside.

"Oh. Hi." She ran a hand through her hair, collecting herself as he walked around to lean against the small house at her side. "Having a good time?"

"Yes," he lied. "Are you?"

She rotated her slender wrist slowly, making the wine in her glass swirl around the cup. She looked down and nodded.

"Come on," he said softly, putting his finger under her chin and raising it up a little. "Are you?"

Laughing and brushing his hand away, she sighed. "Yes. I am." She fixed him with her pale eyes and smiled. They twinkled in the fading light.

"Good."

The man exhaled, staring up at the appearing stars. The sky was wiped with black and blue, and pink and violet streaked across its bruises.

"Aerrow's growing up."

"He's bigger every day," she agreed. "I'm so proud of him."

"He's intelligent, too." Ace chuckled softly, the cold wind ruffling through his bangs. "It's great being a babysitter. I almost feel like he's my own son."

"Ace…" The blonde rocked forward, balancing on her own feet and walking a few paces into the grass.

"I'm sorry," he hastily muttered. "I just mean he's like family to me. He's a wonderful kid."

Nadia turned and blinked at him. He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

"Aaron seems a little drunk," the copilot murmured, the warmth gone from his voice. "Do you want me to bring Aerrow out here?"

"Ace, please."

"What?" he demanded.

"Don't. Just don't…"

_"What?"_

"It's my anniversary. Can't you just be happy for me? Is that too much to ask?" Her voice was rising with her desperation.

"Aerrow shouldn't be in there with him while he's drunk."

"He's _celebrating_. He saved an entire terra today."

"I saved _him!_ I killed that general, Nadia. And he took _credit_ for it."

"You _had_ your chance, Ace!"

He closed his mouth, staring down at her in defiance. She glared up at him, eyes just as hardened.

"It's over. You can either be happy for me and remember your squadron comes before your jealousy, or you'd better stay away from my son and stop using him to get on my good side. You had your chance."

A long second passed, his eyes flicking between both of hers, searching for any sign that her words were forced. He let off a short breath and looked at the ground between them.

And walked away.

Swallowing, Nadia watched as he turned gradually to shadow and shrunk into the darkness. The sound of the crickets disappeared beneath the roar of his skimmer, and her stare followed the shape of it until it vanished through the clouds.

xXxXx

The bartender eyed him worriedly as he lifted the glass and downed it, flinching at the burn as it washed the walls of his throat. The crack when he slammed the glass down on the counter made her flinch. He'd break the next one for sure, she thought. And if not that one, the one after it.

The dull roar of laughter rose, and somebody shouted something in a merry, weary voice. The doors creaked and footsteps sounded on the doorstep before melting away into the din. Greetings rose up high out of the low, guttural chorus of noises, and still sober voices called back. Ace motioned the bartender over, and began talking over her the minute she advised him he'd better quit before she had a dead guy on her property and her conscience. Their voices rose and rose until he snapped his mouth shut and glared into her eyes, and she finally surrendered, grabbing two of his empty cups to toss in the sink before making her way back with a full one.

A black cloak seated itself on the stool beside him.

Ace rested his head on his hand, running his long fingers through his hair and blinking back the stubborn tears that kept blurring his already fuzzy gaze. The person beside him set his elbow on the counter, and Ace glared up at him, expecting a victimizing joke.

Two dark sapphire eyes gleamed at him from under the hood.

"What do you want?" His sneer dissipated at the wide, seemingly fearful look of the eyes, but his demand was still just as sharp.

"I'm sorry," the figure muttered back.

He blinked.

The person concealed by the cloak was a woman.

"Just stop looking at me," he uttered, looking down the opposite side of the bar. The dim lights shone off the marble of the counter.

"What's wrong?"

"I said _leave me alone_." He turned back to her, eyes icy and a sneer pulling his mouth open to reveal a flash of his teeth.

"But you've been crying," she protested, and put a hand on his arm. He stared down at the huge, shimmering ring on it in surprise.

"What the hell are you? A freaking carrier designer?"

When she didn't reply, he looked up at her. "I'm wealthy," she finally said. "But I'm far from rich."

Deciding groggily that it was some stupid, purposefully cryptic answer, he rolled his eyes and faced forward again.

"Are you all right?"

Enraged, he whirled around. "YES, I'M FINE, NOW WOULD YOU JUST LEAVE ME _ALONE?_"

Startled, she jerked back, the hood falling around her shoulders.

Ace's eyes went wide.

She stared at him, plum-colored eyes huge with fear. A dark, ugly bruise crawled from the back of her neck over her face, disappearing into her dark hair. A strand slid out from behind her ear. It glimmered in the light.

"Sorry," she said in barely a whisper. She slid off the stool and turned toward the door.

"No, wait." He caught her wrist. She turned back to him, startled. "I didn't mean it."

"Don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"I won't, I'm sorry." He let go of her wrist. "Why would somebody … you're so-" he broke off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, nothing. Never mind."

She lowered her delicate frame onto the seat beside him once more, pulling the hood over head. "Please tell me why you were crying."

Letting off a breath of exasperation, he turned back to the counter and rested his elbows on it. "I don't want to talk about it." He sniffed a disgusting, snot-filled sniff. He ground his teeth together in frustration as his pupils swam through sudden tears. She rested her palm on his shoulder, and the coldness of her fingers penetrated the leather of his shirt.

He looked back at her, now able to make out the line of her face within the shadow of the hood. She was watching him, pupils huge and expression one of simple sadness.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Who beat you? A brother? Your husband?"

"Please don't," she murmured. "I'm escaping him for a night. I don't want to think about it."

"Does it hurt?" He was already reaching toward her face, and when she flinched away he got his answer. Her face twisted for a split second before she regained control of it; an expression so grief-filled it wrenched his stomach.

"I have nothing," she rasped, and a shimmery line appeared down her face. "I thought I'd have everything. But I'm worthless." Another tear streaked down her cheek as she gazed at him. The hopelessness in her eyes was so deep, so empty, that it terrified him.

"No you aren't," he whispered back.

"Yes I am," she said, voice cracking as she leaned over and sobbed.

Anger filled him and he reached up with both hands, cupping her face between them. "No you're _not!"_

Sobbing again, she looked up at him timidly. He clumsily wiped the tears off her unbruised cheek with his thumb. "Don't cry," he mumbled. "Please don't cry."

"He hates me," she whispered. "He's angry at me for even being alive."

"Don't think about him," Ace said, and when she fell against his chest he wrapped his arms around her small frame. "It's okay. Don't worry, I'm here. It's gonna be okay."

She turned her face up to him, her hood falling around her shoulders. He put a hand on the back of her head, fingertips disappearing into her thick, wavy hair.

"I'll keep you safe," he whispered, taking the hand out of her hair and resting it against her face.

"Do you promise?"

He had no time to answer. She pressed her lips to his, gripping his narrow shoulders.

He had no choice but to wrap his arms around her. His own tears finally escaped his eyes when he closed them, clutching her.

She pulled back and buried her face in his shirt. She gripped him until his skin hurt where her nails dug in. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of her head, still holding her to his chest.

Finally, he collected his thoughts long enough to speak. He rested his fingers over the back of her head once more, bringing his lips down so she could hear him over the rumble of voices.

"I know I can't save you. But if, for one night, you felt loved, would it make it hurt any less?" She turned her eyes back up at him, sobbing once more.

Her lips pressing into his again was his answer.


	2. Stork

**- Chapter Two -**

xXxXx

The sky was gray and empty, indifferent to the creatures scuttling to and fro beneath it.

It was an average morning for the three - quiet and disjointed in the way all small families are.

"She said she'd never seen him before. Which, of course, was puzzling, because Marie saw them together at the carnival on Terra Neon. Why would she lie to me like that?"

"Because that's how she is. Sooner or later you're all going to have to _face_ it; that's just how she is."

She sat down her coffee cup, sighing heavily. The dull autumn light caught her onyx hair and it flashed radiantly in the little kitchen.

"I just don't understand why she thinks she needs to hide things from everyone. We all know how she is. We don't like it, but we all know it. What's there to pretend about?"

"Lenore, that's just how she is. It never made sense. It never will."

He watched the exchange between his parents silently, kicking his feet absently under his chair. His breakfast sat, untouched, before him, and the sleepiness he'd felt when his mother had awakened him had all but faded.

"This may sound horrible, but do you think it has to do with the window?"

"The what?"

"The window River was supposed to install for Mark and Finch. Remember? They paid for it and then he lost his job."

"Honey, wasn't that Finch's brother?"

"No, it was River. I almost think it's because she doesn't want to be in the middle of it if they start asking River to come back and finish the window."

"Ahh,_ that's_ doubtful."

"I really don't think so!"

"No, you know her better than that. This is like it always is with her; it's an issue of pride. She won't admit that she's with him because she wants to feel like she's in control of the family's opinion of her."

"But last summer we all sat down and talked about it with her. Don't you remember? George was there, and Anne came down from Nord. Don't you remember?"

"I remember being held up by the Talon security patrols while we were trying to _get_ there."

"Don't get sarcastic. Think about it!"

Stork cleared his throat, staring at a strange shape in the grain of the wood in the center of the table.

"I don't want to talk about them right now. Let's just have a nice family breakfast and talk about normal things and normal people. Nothing about crazy step-siblings today, okay?"

She sighed again curtly. Her eyes dropped to her napkin she was folding into squares and then to her son's plate.

"Eat something, honey."

"I'm not hungry," he responded softly.

"Stork, what's the matter?" She tilted her head to the side and fixed him in a gentle stare.

"I'm worried about something."

His dad pursed his lips as he always did when biting back a snarky comment and instead looked out the window at the quiet sky.

"What's wrong?"

Taking in a breath, the little merb readied himself. "Have you guys heard about the monster?"

Shawn cocked an eyebrow. "Monster? Besides my sister-in-law?"

Lenore gave him a warning smile and turned back to her son.

"Yeah, the monster. Supposedly there's something big roaming around."

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Grandpa said so. Everyone's been talking about it. A few people in town claim to have seen it - it's supposed to be huge and dark-colored."

"_Really?_" said his dad. "On Terra Merb?"

Stork nodded, somewhat spastically. "Something's been tearing up gardens around the south end of the terra. It hasn't hurt anybody yet, but people think it mostly comes out at night."

His mother's eyes widened. "Out of the jungle?"

"There used to be things as big as houses around," his father contested. "But things are a lot safer these days."

"Has anybody actually seen it?"

"Nobody I've _talked_ to," the littlest of the three replied, "But one of Grandpa's friends supposedly has."

"That's a lot of supposedlies," Shawn muttered behind his coffee mug.

"Well, unless we hear anything else, I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Stork's yellow eyes widened at his mother's gently condescending tone. "But I _know_ it's there. Some of the nocturnal families have heard it tearing up the ground right outside of their houses!"

"Nocturnals are crazy," Shawn muttered uselessly.

"We moved here because out in the open, things like this don't _happen_. Terra Merb has the best rates of survival of any of the temperate terras this year. Didn't we pick up that news reel?"

"You fell asleep halfway through it," Shawn replied dryly. Lenore ignored him.

"I know, but animals can still get scared or hungry and start acting erratically-"

"Stork, what were we just talking about?"

The little merb's ears laid back against his head in irritation. "Mom, I promise I meant it when I said okay. I'm not being paranoid this time."

"It's good to be cautious," Lenore recited firmly, her brows drawing down slightly, "but don't let fear rule your life."

The irksomely familiar phrase burned into the front of the boy's head as his mom said it for the fifth time this week. "Okay, Mom. I know."

"Okay then."

She smiled sweetly, making her shallow cheekbones glow and her thick straight ponytail glint again in the light.

"Eat your breakfast, Stork."

He glared at his dad, whose attention was aimed at his book. Lenore poured a little more half and half into her coffee, clinking the spoon around on the inside of the cup as she stirred. He looked down at the plate that sat in front of him.

His eggs were cold and soggy.

xXxXx

The sky was heavy and thick above the long stretch of wild grass that whispered softly behind the house. Stork's gaze wandered across the flat land that reached into the distance only to be swallowed up by the forest. He was both comforted by the familiar landscape and unnerved by the soldierlike trees, rising to powerful heights and casting shadows too black to see into. The land surrounding his home had always felt this way: like an old face that had been with him for years yet held some sinister and unspoken secret.

The garden was only a few paces from the back door, and he knelt where the green of the makeshift lawn met the soft soil. His mother rarely let him pick and prepare the vegetables because he washed them until his knuckles were raw. "There's a fine line between practicality and paranoia," she often chided, and though he knew it, the more he thought about grubs and beetles and bacteria, the more blurry that like became.

The fruit was heavy and ripe on the trellis and he eyed each one carefully, methodically turning and checking them for bruises or bite marks. Satisfied, he plucked them off their stems with a satisfying snap, one by one.

The breeze picked up as he decided whether or not to get any of the onions. His ears perked, his body instantly tensing as his eyes shot to the woods.

The leaves of bright yellow plants slapped against one another as trees creaked tiredly above them.

Reluctantly Stork returned to his chore. There was something about days like this he didn't like.

It was like when a summer storm was on the horizon and quickly approaching - one that is preceded by a heavy silence and an ominous heaviness to the air. One that makes you get goosebumps even before the air turns cold; the kind that makes you want to shoo everyone inside and crouch in the deepest part of the basement.

It was like that feeling, but in the pit of his stomach instead of in the air.

Heaving a cabbage into the basket, Stork shuddered and pulled his sleeves down. Summers on Terra Merb were warm and serene, but winters were horrible. The weather would begin its gradual crawl from the clear warm sunshine into overcast, frosty wind. It wasn't life-threatening, but the cold still made almost everyone he knew sluggish and irritable. Most people couldn't afford homes in the perpetually sunny places like Tropica, however, and Saharr was too dry for most to tolerate. He couldn't imagine being human - being a warm, hearty mammal. It wasn't fair that they could do whatever they wanted.

The merb plopped another cabbage in, knowing that he could eat a whole one himself. Something nice and warm like soup with big, thick noodles in it would be perfect to combat this chilly weather.

He didn't notice it until the growl.

Freezing, he looked up.

The patches of fur along its spine rose slowly as bright amber eyes met the merb's. It growled again - low and deep and rumbling. Its stomach pushed in grotesquely against its ribs until they jutted impossibly into the scab-covered hide.

He ran.

The creature bashed against the door just as he fumbled the lock into place, shaking the pictures on the walls and making the hinges squeal. Backing up, his eyes wandered up the door frame.

Another crash. The door groaned in protest at the hundreds of pounds of force hitting it.

Backing up, he risked a glance into the living room. "Mom?"

A blood-curdling snarl and another crash were his reply. He yelped, his ears pricking skyward as his focus turned back to the flimsy door.

"Dad?"

This time, the impact was against the side of the house. The door jostled uselessly in place and a family portrait fell off the wall.

The merb gasped for breath, his heart pounding impossibly faster. "Mom? _Dad?_"

He found his feet carrying him backward as the sound of scraping made a chill run up his spine. Claws, raking impatiently against the cabin and ripping up earth as it panted.

Stork backed into the kitchen, the roar of blood rushing through his ears deafening in the silence.

"M-Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

If they were out of the house, they were in danger. _This_ was why he got so upset when they didn't tell him they were going out!

And then he realized that he needed to keep it here. Distract it.

"H-hey!"

A sudden stillness - his stomach dropped through the floor when he knew it was listening. He cleared his throat, fingers gripping at nothing as tremors of fear shot through his body at what he was about to do.

"Hey! I'M IN HERE!"

The thud of its body against the house came almost before he was done yelling. This time the door squealed urgently as its frame bowed and ground against it and the chairs against the wall scooted forward.

He acknowledged in the back of his mind that the structure wasn't going to make it.

He was halfway through the kitchen the next time it heaved itself against the cabin, and the uncanny shatter of a flower pot made him grit his teeth. He scrambled around the swaying chandelier and headed for the front door.

His knees rattled like twigs as it growled low in its throat, gouging into the exterior of the house with claws that sounded like they were shredding the sturdy logs like tissue paper. He turned the gold handle, his breath sucked into his chest like a vacuum as he pulled.

The door opened with barely a whisper. Stork slid through the opening and looked around.

The forest had never seemed so still.

He heard the back door come off the hinges with little more than a pop. The heavy sound of its breath rung in his ears as he sprinted across the yard.

Something that sounded smaller than the back wall collapsing in but louder than the floor buckling under its weight rang out. Was it too big to fit in the door? It sure looked like it was.

The merb ducked behind a sturdy, tall oak to look back at his yard. From where he was frozen it almost looked peaceful - undisturbed. There was a forceful, rasping snarl and the whole house suddenly shuddered like a leaf.

_Was it stuck…?_

Before giving himself the chance to lose his nerve, he dove forward, following the wide dirt path that lead from his home toward town. Maybe it would stay stuck in the doorframe. Maybe it would smell their scent filling the tiny house and think there was still someone in it. Maybe-

With a furious roar the monster thrashed violently, causing the wood to splinter in a way that made Stork somehow positive that it had wrenched itself free. He was fast when he needed to be, and he was already fifty feet from the front of his yard. The trees were thick and the undergrowth was lush, and it wouldn't take too much more distance between them before he was completely invisible.

The thudding of monstrous paws tore through the front yard and Stork could hear its massive body slamming into the trees lining the forest, the leaves in the sky shuddering with the impact. He ran faster.

Gravel skittered out from under his feet as he darted around a sharp bend in the path, hitting the leaves of a huge plant that had taken over most of the middle of the forest. There was a vicious growl and the trees rattled from the force of it pivoting between them.

_Shit._

In nearly slow motion the creature tore through the trees in the little merb's direction, powerful, emaciated body smacking the trunks of elms and oaks like a giant pinball hitting flimsy bumpers. His stare swung across the trail as the ground beneath him shook and he leapt into the waist-deep ground cover.

It halted, its breath heavy and aggravated as its prey vanished from sight. He could feel its slitted pupils flicking across the leaves right above his head.

It stepped forward, its massive claws shredding into the flimsy ivy leaves bordering the wood, and its listless pant suddenly became more rapid and pointed.

_It was sniffing._

He crouched beneath the trembling leaves and his heart raced faster than he knew it could. He could smell and see every grain of dirt beneath his fingers and he could've heard a blade of grass move a mile away.

Its massive head swung back.

The breathing halted.

The stems beneath its foot squeaked and snapped as it shifted its weight and concentrated on the uncanny reek of fear drifting through the still air. It was close.

The massive leaves above Stork's head suddenly whispered against one another as the monster's breath brushed over them. The hair stood up on the back of his neck.

He couldn't take it.

The ground disappeared beneath his fingers as he pulled himself forward beneath the underbrush, all sense of direction vanishing as he fought to put distance between himself and the howling thing barreling straight for him. The cover grew thinner and slippery moss replaced dirt and he hurtled forward now on his feet zigzagging this way and that as its hot breath drew closer and closer, the grating, ravenous snarl filling his ears.

A small hill rose up on his left as he scampered beneath the trees. Immediately he knew what it was.

The merb skidded to a stop, curling himself into a crouch and tumbling headfirst into the gaping hole on the other side of the mound.

Immediately the furry creatures bundled together leapt to their feet, jostling him violently as the yelped in their high-pitched voices. Scoats were notoriously wild and equally clumsy when frightened, and these lived up to their reputation. The merb was shoved against the top of the packed earth as the round creatures scrambled to escape, bumping clumsily into one another as they bolted for the entrance. Everything went dark and the wind was knocked out of him as Stork hit the ground on his back, the dizzying terror forcing him to get himself upright in time to watch the last two scoats explode out of the burrow.

There was a thud - then a growl - then a jumble of high-pitched yelps and thuds.

He could hear the hiss of the monster launching itself through the air after the sudden burst of prey.

Stork knelt and opened his mouth, gasping for air as horror and nausea pulled him dangerously toward unconsciousness.

No.

It wasn't safe here.

The merb forced himself to his feet, his ears drooping as speckling darkness edged his vision. His eyes swept the forest in search of the beast and, when he was sure it wasn't there, he stumbled forward.

The forest was eerily silent as he wandered through the trees, avoiding dry, crunchy leaves as best as he could; the only sound his hypersensitive ears picking up being his own rasping breaths.

It was nowhere to be found.

Though he had been sure he was leading the monster away from town, the merb found himself stumbling into a familiar clearing.

It was too quiet.

His breathing hastened as he trotted toward the tiny huts that should've been buzzing with activity.

"Mom?" he heard himself shouting hoarsely before he could stop himself. "Dad?"

Someone stuck his head out of one of the little shops, blinking in bewilderment. Stork veered toward him and then hesitated.

"Look at that kid," said a little boy distinctly, pointing at the shouting adolescent. His mother said in an oddly calm voice, "Now, honey, you know it isn't polite to stare."

His feet carried him forward and his heart thudded in his throat. Everyone was staring at him. Didn't they know? Why weren't they hiding?

"Did you-" he suddenly felt like he was going to pass out, and he leaned over, gasping for air. "Didn't you see it?"

An older merb glanced at the man beside her, looking puzzled. "See what?" she asked softly.

"The- the _monster,_" Stork cried.

The little boy who had spoken up before stared then at his mother, his eyes wide and panicked. She put a hand protectively on his back and stepped forward. "There is no monster here!" She looked again at her son as if hoping he felt reassured.

At her odd reaction Stork could only gape. "But - but the - the thing in the forest! The creature; the thing with green skin and big mangy patches and its teeth-"

"I saw it yesterday," a kid proclaimed, her chest swelling with pride. Though she was obviously trying to get attention, a few of the gathering shopgoers looked at her and began to mutter nervously.

"It's real," a small, elderly woman murmured softly. He looked into her gentle eyes and he could see that she meant it.

Now Stork pushed forward, beyond caring whether these people believed him or not. "Mom! Dad! _Mom!_"

He was starting to feel icy cold and the blood was pounding in his ears. His voice was beginning to crack as he strained it against its abilities. "Mom! _Dad!_"

It didn't dawn on him that someone was calling him until the burly merb put a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" Stork whirled on him, panicky.

"Is your mother Lenore?"

"Yes," Stork breathed before the shopkeeper had finished his sentence.

"She's on her way home. Your father was with her too."

His body felt like it was going numb around him. "Okay," he whispered softly.

The town disappeared around him as he moved toward the woods.

The clearing was behind him before a minute had passed.

He followed the winding path, the familiar landmarks foreign as he cleared them in single bounds. The woods was rattling with life, but somehow now with fear. The lone cry of an animal searching for its baby. The abrupt rustle of leaves as some tropic bird threw itself from its nest.

His home was drawing close.

Stork stumbled over something in the road, something he didn't want to look at, because the closer it got the less it seemed like a pile of leaves and more like something bloody and dead. There were shreds of it on the trees and the smell was horrid and acrid and of something that was just minutes ago _alive_.

Holy Christ, he heard himself think. _Holy Christ_.

He was home.

He skidded to a stop and realized that his feet were blistered and torn, and then out of the blue he realized that there were long, thin thorns sticking in his arms and one thigh. One finger was splintered with little pieces of tree bark and the nail was oozing ugly dark blood.

It sounded like a bird. Like some strange bird. And then he heard it again.

"_Stork!_"

His knees made contact with the ground before her, his shaking hands clutching one of hers.

"Stork…"

"_Mom-?_" He shuddered as he squeezed her slender fingers.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled quietly, "I'm fine."

She pushed herself into a sitting position, and the only thing he could see amiss was a tiny scrape on her forearm.

"It must have been a _storm_," she said, and he was both deeply worried by her lack of insight and profoundly relieved to see her get to her feet. His vision then flickered to what was behind her.

Half of the house was strewn across the yard.

"I don't … Mom, I don't think it-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey." She put a delicate hand to her head and smiled. Then her face crumpled and tears ran down her cheeks. "I think I'm going into shock."

"Mom," Stork cried, and seeing the horror on her face made his knees try to buckle. "Mom, it's okay!"

"I went ahead to see because something didn't feel right." She sniffed, then did something between a laugh and a sob. "…something didn't feel right…"

"_Mom,_" he uttered helplessly, "I'm here."

"…I think I fainted, but now I'm okay, and I didn't know where you were and your father went. He didn't come find me!"

_Oh God._

Stork knew why he hadn't.

"Oh, Stork. I'm so glad you're here." She squeezed him until it hurt. He cried out suddenly and his vision blurred as he hugged her back. "You're _okay._"

"I'm gonna go look for Dad," the merb heard himself say. "Okay? You stay here and I'm gonna go look for Dad."

Because he had to make sure. Because he couldn't let her see if it was.

"Be careful," she rasped, growing small as he backed toward the trees.

"I'm just gonna go see where he is." He corrected himself though he felt like throwing up. "I'm gonna go see if I can find him."

She looked so small. So fragile.

"Okay." She nodded.

Laughing weakly, Stork pointed at her. "Be cautious, but don't let feel rule your life."

She smiled and straightened up a little at the familiar saying.

The dread in his stomach lightened slightly. "I'll be right back."

"Stork?"

He had reached the road when she called, trying not to look up ahead until he had to. "What, Mom?"

"I love you."

The little merb smiled, feeling a pang of happiness cut through the horror. Somehow it was going to be okay. He turned to face her. "I love you too."

It was where she had stood a moment before, silent as a shadow. Its eyes were trained on him, its rippling back arched predatorily.

Her limp form was in its jaws.

It stalked into the woods, and Stork fainted.


End file.
